


Ten Years Later: Winter Roses

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Ten Years Later, sansa likes winter roses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 12:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15663237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jon finds his son wanting to surprise Sansa. The Lord and Lady of Winterfell also talk about something important.





	Ten Years Later: Winter Roses

**Author's Note:**

> just another one shot in the same vein as the original Ten Years Later fic. hope you guys enjoy!

The glass gardens had never truly been something Jon visited often – indeed, he could count on one hand the number of times he went there – but Torrhen had urged him to come along; he had something important to see.

“Father, look.” the boy pointed to a stalk of flowers. “Winter roses. Mother told me she thinks they are a good symbol of House Stark.”

Jon smiled, shaking his head. “Your grandmother loved those flowers too, Torrhen. So, I would say your mother is right.” Given the history of his own mother and her love of the flower, it would seem Sansa was right about their symbolism to the Starks. “Just make sure Ghost doesn't try to dig them up – again.”

Torrhen laughed, looking at his father. “I want to surprise Mother with them.” he unfurled a small cloth onto the ground, grinning the whole time. “Since I can't make lemon-cakes anyway...”

His son's first attempt at baking had been...problematic. Jon remembered the cooks telling him how the boy had nearly burnt them out of a kitchen, in his then eight-year old attempt to make Sansa's favorite dish.

Within a moment he had gathered up a half-dozen of the flowers and wrapped them carefully. “What do you think?” Torrhen asked, looking up with his brown eyes.

Jon nodded. “Very nice,” he approved, “though I would be discreet about who sees you with them. Never know if any of the servants will go and tell your mother before you can.” Though he knew no one would say a word given the boy's status – it was still amusing to watch his eyes widen in fear.

* * *

As the pair walked back into the hall, Jon patted him on the back. “Do you remember I told you that we were going somewhere special soon?” he asked, getting to the topic of conversation that had eluded him for several days.

Nodding, Torrhen stopped, looking confused. “Is it serious, Father? Another beheading?”

Shaking his head, Jon squeezed the boy's shoulder. “No, nothing like that. But I – as Warden of the North – have been asked to The Rills to mediate a dispute between the Ryswells and Dustins.” The raven had arrived just four days prior – it seemed that both houses were fighting over grazing rights to some newly fertile land nearest their territories.

It was a trivial matter at best but Jon wanted Torrhen along to see how to handle one's self as a lord. “Your mother and I agree that you will come along. You are a boy of ten now, Torrhen – and you need to see how the Lord of Winterfell operates.” he added, kneeling down, “you understand that, right?”

Torrhen's response was swift. “I know, Father. Maester Wolkan explained what the lords do.”

“Yes he does,” Jon noted, “but knowing what the lords do and seeing what the lords do is an entirely different matter. After all, one day it will be you that the North looks to in order to settle these sorts of matters.”

“I will be a good lord like you are, Father.” he carefully put the makeshift bouquet into his pocket.

Ruffling his hair, Jon got back to his feet. “Of that I have no doubt.”

* * *

“He's excited to come to the Rills.” Jon said, looking to Sansa as she brushed her hair. On the night table beside their bed, he took note of the winter roses that Torrhen had picked and smiled.

 _I'm sure she spoiled him rotten for those._ Thankfully, Ghost had ignored the flowers completely; the big direwolf slept in the corner of the room, leg twitching as he dreamed of something, Jon guessed.

Sansa looked back to him, placing the brush down. “Good,” she smiled, running her hands through her hair. “it's important that he sees how his lord father handles these squabbles.”

Jon scoffed. “Grazing disputes – gods, it makes me miss the days of fighting the Others. Almost.” he joked, smothering a laugh. It was a jape, but Jon thought fondly of the unity that the North had held during that moment; all disputes and disagreements had been put to the side.

She laughed, rising to her feet. Sansa slipped out of her robe and walked softly to their bed, sitting down gently. “I wanted to ask you something now that we are on the topic of Torrhen, Jon.” she said, causing him to look over towards her.

“What is it?” he asked, raising a brow slightly. He noticed she was rubbing her hands together; something that he knew Sansa did when she had something of importance to talk about; something that she was worried about his reaction to.

Pulling his legs up onto the bed, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek. “Whatever it is, you don't need to be nervous, Sansa.” he assured her, “you know that.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully. “I need to stop the hand rubbing, don't I?”

“Only a little.” Jon snickered. “But in all honesty – what is it?”

Settling herself into the bed, she turned to look at him. “I was thinking that since it has been ten years since we had Torrhen, we could try for another child soon.”

In truth, Jon had the exact same thought as his wife did. Of course, he had not wanted to pressure her – given the awkwardness of the first years of their marriage. But now that they were growing more comfortable with each other, the act of making love had become less forced and rigid.

Taking Sansa's hand, he patted it gently. “If...if that is what you want, Sansa, then we will.” he smiled, “but only if you are sure.”

“I enjoy being a mother to Torrhen,” Sansa explained, squeezing his hand back, “I love him with all of my heart – but I think he deserves a brother or sister to love and help mentor. We should also consider that for our House to survive the Starks need to reproduce.”

They had tried for a second child once before, but after several attempts at conceiving failed they had given up. That was five or six years ago now, if Jon remembered right. “He'd be a good older brother,” he admitted, “though I hope he doesn't brood as much as I.”

Sansa laughed, slapping him playfully on the chest. “If our son broods it is your fault.”

Silence settled over their bedroom as Jon held her hand, enjoying the peace of the touch.

“So...tomorrow, then?” he asked, laying his head down on the pillow. “Same time, same place?” _Gods, that sounded stupid_ , he groaned inwardly.

Pushing herself up against him, Sansa snorted, “Where else, Jon?” she snickered as they fell asleep in each others arms.

* * *

 

 


End file.
